


Pennyroyal

by dazedandconfused20



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lots of Angst, M/M, Past Abuse, Runaway, Runaway Harry, just two runaways trying to help each other out, only a little, runaway louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazedandconfused20/pseuds/dazedandconfused20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked at Harry. “So you won't do it again?” </p><p>“I won't,” Harry said. “And thanks.” He couldn't remember the last time somebody had cared to do something like that for him. </p><p>“Alright, good,” Louis said, looking relieved. He started to stand up. “Sorry to bother you, I'll leave now if you want-”</p><p>Harry cut him off. “No. I mean- you don't have to. You can stay. We can talk. Get to know each other, and all that.” </p><p>Louis smiled, sitting back down. “As you wish.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry felt the inescapable cold air around him once more as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. He didn't want to be awake yet, didn't want to return to the real world again, especially after what he had experienced the night before. 

He kept his eyes shut for a few more minutes, attempting to clear his mind of thoughts so he could fall back asleep. But it was no use. He opened his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the bright outside light. Carefully, Harry sat himself upright on the park bench where he had spent the night. 

When he was halfway up, he let out a gasp and instinctively jumped back a bit, upon seeing that there was a man sitting next to him on the bench. 

Harry suddenly felt fully awake, his mind losing any grogginess it had been carrying. His muscles tightened and he went into an immediate defensive mode, waiting for the man to do something. 

But he just looked at Harry. 

And Harry looked back, noticing a few things about this man. First, he was fairly young, probably around Harry's age. Second, he looked fairly tattered, poor, and hungry. Harry suddenly felt a little less threatened. 

“Who are you?” Harry spoke, having to clear his throat of the early morning thickness. 

The man ignored Harry's question but pointed to the ground in front of them. “What is that?” he asked. 

Harry looked down, and his heart sank. 

“That's- that's nothing,” he lied, leaning down to quickly pick up the items that must've fallen out of his pocket as he slept. The needle and syringe, metal spoon, and lighter. 

“I'm not an idiot,” the man said, somewhat harshly. “I know what that stuff is. But I also know you don't look like a junkie. So, how long have you been using?” 

Harry considered lying- continuing to deny it- but didn't see the point with this person. He could tell that he wouldn't believe him anyways. 

“Last night was the first time,” Harry said quietly. 

The man sighed, sounding almost relieved. “Good, then you're not in too deep. What was it by the way?” 

Not in too deep? Why did this man care if Harry was in deep or not? It was none of his business really. He decided to answer his question instead of responding to the other part. 

“Heroin.”

Harry didn't like the sound of the drug’s name on his tongue. It still seemed like such a distant thing, a thing he was told never to do, a thing he told himself he never would do, a thing he never even considered doing, until recently. But now that completely foreign thing wasn't so foreign anymore. 

“Mmhm. What's your name?” 

“Harry. What's yours?” Harry countered, trying to be on the attacking side of the conversation for the first time. 

“Louis,” the man said shortly. “Look, Harry, I'm gonna need for you to not do heroin- or any drug- again. Okay?”

Harry felt shocked. Who did this man think he was to show up out of nowhere and tell Harry what to do?

“Why? You don't know me,” Harry countered. 

Louis remained calm. “How long have you been on the streets?”

Harry looked down. “Almost a week,” he answered lowly, knowing the reaction he would probably get. 

“A week,” Louis said condescendingly, just as Harry expected. “I've been out here almost a year.”

Harry's head snapped up. A year? 

Louis continued. “I've never used. But I've made friends out here who have. And let me tell you, it ruins people. It starts out nice I guess, but then you get addicted, and the addiction starts to consume everything until that's all you are. An addict willing to do anything for a high.” Louis paused before continuing with a lower voice. “I've seen people die. And it's not rare, for people involved in that stuff. It's common. Is that what you want, Harry?”

Harry looked away from Louis. 

“I don't know what I want. I don't know if I want to live,” he answered truthfully. He always just felt empty, like a waste of space, as he'd always been told. 

“Whether or not you want to live is something I can't control. But I can tell you for sure: you don't wanna die like this. An awful, terrible, inhuman way to die. No respect, no dignity, no sense of self left by the end, when the drug has completely drained you of who you are.” 

“It's the first time I've felt something other than pain in a long time,” Harry mumbled, thinking back to the hours after he had injected himself and before he had fallen asleep on the park bench. “That was all I wanted, to feel something,” he explained weakly. 

Louis looked at him carefully. “If you continue, it'll bring you more pain than you've ever imagined. The cycle of addiction and depression is a vicious one. Don't let yourself get caught up in it. Let your first time be your last time, please.”

Harry sighed. In his waking moments, he had already been thinking about how to get more of the drug, and the pleasant, numb feeling that came along with it. But somehow, Louis had managed to convince him that it wasn't worth it. It was just a dumb thing he thought he'd try once. He had came dangerously close to ending up like the friends Louis was talking about, but he decided it was best left as what it was meant to be- a dumb thing he thought he'd try. 

But he couldn't understand why Louis cared about him. Why had he stopped to give Harry this talk? 

“Why do you care?” Harry asked. 

Louis shook his head and began speaking with his head to the ground. “Like I said, I've seen it too many times. When I saw the stuff on the ground next to you, I knew I had to stop and talk to you. I need to do what I can to keep it from happening to more people.” He looked at Harry. “So you won't do it again?” 

“I won't,” Harry said. “And thanks.” He couldn't remember the last time somebody had cared to do something like that for him. 

“Alright, good,” Louis said, looking relieved. He started to stand up. “Sorry to bother you, I'll leave now if you want-”

Harry cut him off. “No. I mean- you don't have to. You can stay. We can talk. Get to know each other, and all that.” 

Louis smiled, sitting back down. “As you wish.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry looked around at his early morning surroundings. The sky was cloudy and there was a breeze, but he was thankful that he could surmise there wasn't really a chance of rain. The birds were chirping around him, reminding him that, in spite of his unique and even earth-shattering situation, life always went on. 

The park was nearly deserted, apart from a few early morning joggers. He could feel their eyes on him every now and then, but they quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring at someone who was obviously disadvantaged. Harry was quickly becoming accustomed to that. People preferred to ignore a homeless person. They would walk by with their eyes trained firmly in front of them, not allowing them to stray to the sidewalk where the person sat because then they might make eye contact, which might trigger empathy within them, which might cause them to feel bad about doing nothing for the person. Harry knew that not everybody was in a position to help, and he really didn't want to ask for help anyways, but he felt that the least they could do was smile. Treat everyone like a person, rather than a nuisance to be ignored. 

Harry's eyes drifted over to Louis sitting beside him, who was watching Harry carefully. 

“What are you thinking about?” Louis asked. 

Harry shrugged. “I feel like I'm not a person anymore,” he admitted. 

To say he barely knew Louis was an understatement. He'd met him about five minutes earlier, for God's sake. But he already felt a connection, a sense of relief that he had somebody to talk to. Perhaps the hardest week of his life so far had been spent in a suffocating silence, a cold isolation in which he had nobody to share anything with.

But here was somebody who treated him like a person, who didn't avert his eyes and walk faster to pass him, who understand, better than Harry did, what they were going through. 

Louis nodded. “That happens at first a lot.” He paused, frowning. “Actually, it happens a lot even as you go on. Gets better or worse depending on your circumstances, I guess.” 

“Circumstances?” Harry questioned. 

“Like, do you have any friends right now? Anybody you can talk to or count on? Or...did your friend just disappear or die or something? Have you been eating or not? Are you working? That kind of thing. Circumstances.”

Harry shook his head and shut his eyes. Louis’ answer again pounded the reality of his situation to the front of his mind. 

“I must be crazy,” he mumbled under his breath. 

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. The calming touch seemed to ground him, to bring him back to reality instead of the dark place he was headed. He opened his eyes. 

“You're not crazy,” Louis said. 

“Maybe I should go home,” Harry said slowly, considering the idea for only a moment. “No, I shouldn't,” he answered himself. 

Louis looked unsure. “Maybe you should,” he said apprehensively. 

“Who are you to talk?” Harry asked angrily. “Look where you are.” He waved his hand in front of them as if reminding Louis exactly where they were. 

Louis sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I know, and I wish I wasn't.”

Louis looked broken for a moment. Harry realized that he probably was, and felt bad for snapping at him. 

“I'm sorry,” Harry apologized. 

“It's cool,” Louis said, sounding sincere. “I know how it is.” 

“How old are you?” Harry asked, suddenly curious. 

“Nineteen. You?”

“Almost seventeen.”

Louis nodded. 

“Why'd you leave?” Harry whispered, not wanting to be rude but really wanting to know. 

Louis looked at him. “I had a really religious upbringing. Church three nights a week or more, Christian school, having to memorize and recite Bible verses, all that. Which is all well and good I suppose, except when your family takes a little too literally a certain passage that condemns you.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, confused. 

Louis smiled sadly. “‘Man shall not lie with man’, right? ‘It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve’. Okay, that second one isn't a Bible verse but you get the point,” he finished, trying to instill some humor into the situation but mostly failing. 

Harry hardly heard the second half of what Louis said because he was so shocked at this revelation. 

“Really?” Harry asked quietly. 

“Yep,” Louis replied. “The typical story. I realized I didn't like girls- which I knew I was supposed to- when I was pretty young but I was determined to change that. A few years ago I finally accepted that that was impossible, but I was too scared to tell my family. Until just before I left. I finally convinced myself that they loved me and would accept me no matter what.” His sad smile left his face, being replaced with a frown. “They kicked me out when I told them. My family. The only people who are supposed to love me and look out for me no matter what put me on the street like that.”

The pain in his eyes sent a chill down Harry's spine. It was the pain of somebody who had been abandoned. The pain of somebody who had to question his worth every day. 

Harry took a deep breath. “I'm the same way,” he started. “I'm gay. My family's not super religious or anything but I knew they wouldn't support it to put it lightly. So I decided to hide it.” He paused, searching for the strength to continue. “I was depressed. Am depressed. In large part I assume because of the whole hiding myself situation. So that was bad enough. And then, a couple of weeks ago, my dad...he caught me with a boy, Ian. And he went crazy. I'd never seen him like that. I told Ian to get out, and he did, but when he was gone, my dad-” Harry's voice cracked and he took another deep breath. “He started hitting me. I don't know- I don't know what came over him, but I was terrified. He finally stopped, and I was bruised. Bloody. And in the days after that, I waited for some sort of apology, or any sign of remorse from him at all. But there was none. Not even my mum said anything to me, even though I know she knew the whole story. They just pretended that it never happened almost, except that Dad was noticeably colder towards me. Mum was a little better, but it didn't matter. I couldn't take it. I was more depressed than ever and just felt completely worthless, but also scared. I didn't know what to do, so I ran.”

Harry quickly wiped the few tears that had escaped from his eyes. He didn't cry often, but the re-telling of the traumatizing story was a lot to handle for him emotionally. 

He looked at Louis, who wasn't looking at him with pity like he expected, but with a sort of light sympathy and admiration. 

“Damn,” he whispered. “I can already tell that you're worth so much more than you think.”

Harry was a little surprised at his assessment but he shrugged. “I'm just a runaway, right?” he asked rhetorically. 

Louis smiled. “I'm just a kid who got kicked out of his house, right? So what? Doesn't mean we aren't people.” He paused, leaning back and looking up to the sky. “You'll believe me one day.” 

“What about you?” Harry asked, wanting to turn the tables. “What do you think of yourself?”

Louis laughed lightly. “I think I'm a piece of shit, but that's how it is. We see the beauty in others but never in ourselves. But I'm working on it.”

“Maybe we can help each other out,” Harry said. “Remind the other of their good qualities. Like, you're obviously a really good person who stopped this morning to save me from possibly becoming a drug addict when you didn't have to do that.” 

Louis smiled. “Saved someone from becoming a drug addict. That's an unusual compliment, but I guess a pretty good one.” He paused. “And, you're a really strong person. You had the strength to get away from a really shitty situation instead of letting it destroy you.”

Harry shrugged. “I didn't-”

“No, no, no,” Louis cut him off. “If we're gonna do this, part of it has to be that you can't deny or downplay what the other says. Just accept it. Try to accept it as easily as the person saying it does.” 

The words echoed within Harry. ‘Try to accept it as easily as the person saying it does’. If only life were that easy.

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Louis stood up. “C’mon. We can't sit on this bench forever, can we?” he asked, reaching his hand out to help Harry up. 

Harry eyed his hand before taking it and lifting himself to stand beside Louis, feeling as if that somehow solidified their new status as companions. 

“I guess not.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry couldn’t help sneaking glances at Louis as they walked. He looked somewhat malnourished and unhealthy but, underneath that, there was something else. He was rather attractive. Harry felt dumb for even thinking about something so shallow in such a strange and difficult time, but he figured “the world keeps turning” and all that. 

“So. What now?” Louis asked with his eyebrows raised. 

Harry was taken aback. 

“What do you mean? Like, where are we going? Because-”

Louis cut him off. “No, no. I mean, what's your plan? What's the move?”

“Oh…” Harry started. “I don't...really have a plan,” he said, sounding more like he was asking a question than making a statement. 

Louis’ eyes narrowed a bit. “Where are you from anyways?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Harry said with an accusatory tone. Louis cocked an eyebrow and raised his hands in defense. Harry sighed. “I'm from Cheshire. I knew I had to go to a big city when I left since that's where I was least likely to be noticed. Thought about Manchester or Liverpool or something but decided they were too close to home.” He shrugged. “I don't know. London just seemed like the natural choice, although it was probably a dumb one.” He paused, thinking over his next few words before saying them. “I had a lot of money saved from working so I just left with it all one day. Took a train. Here I am.” 

Louis nodded slowly, eyeing him. “So you don't have a plan, besides almost getting addicted to heroin?”

Harry shrugged, not wanting to speak out of his growing annoyance. 

“Hm,” Louis started. “Well, you need one. Whatever money you have isn't going to last forever. Getting a job can be insanely difficult for us, but it's necessary. I have one right now but it's pretty shit, and who knows how long they'll keep me around… Anyways, I have a place. Also pretty shit, but you can stay there until you can afford your own. Can't have you sleeping on park benches and all.”

Harry looked at him in shock. “I can't- I couldn't possibly- no way-” he sputtered before Louis cut him off. 

“Shut it. I don't mind at all, and I prefer to know you're safe. As long as you're looking for a job and not just mooching off of me,” he said playfully, winking at Harry. 

Harry was floored. He'd been sleeping on the streets for the past week, thinking that's where he'd stay for awhile. But here was a near complete stranger, offering him a place to live. It was more than he could have hoped for, really. 

Louis’ voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “But, like I said, it's pretty shit. Really, don't expect much.”

Harry couldn't help but smile. “I've been sleeping on park benches this past week,” he reminded Louis. 

“You know, that's true,” Louis replied, nodding his head in agreement. “You can only go up from there, I suppose.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before turning onto a new street. 

“Where are we going?” Harry asked upon realizing that he has just been mindlessly following Louis. 

“This little cafe for breakfast. Then to my place, and then I have work later.”

Harry nodded. He noticed that more people were beginning to join them on the street, most of them presumably on their way to work. 

“Where do you work?” Harry asked. 

“Wait until we sit down for questions,” Louis replied as he stopped walking and opened a door that Harry had barely even noticed. 

“Thank you,” Harry muttered as he walked in with Louis following him and the door closing behind them. 

His eyes needed a moment to adjust to the low lighting of the place. There was only one small window to the outside, and there weren't many lights inside. When they finally adjusted, he noticed that the cafe was pretty small with only a few tables and a few customers sitting at them. 

“Come on,” Louis said, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him up to the counter. 

“Hey, Louis. Who's this?” 

Harry looked behind the counter at the man who had spoken. He seemed to be in his early twenties and had long blonde hair and a tall, slender frame. 

He introduced himself before Louis could do it for him. “I'm Harry.” 

“Adrian,” the man introduced himself, reaching out his hand for Harry to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

Harry smiled. “You too.”

A bit of an awkward silence followed, as no one knew what to say. 

“Right,” Louis said, breaking the silence. “I'll take the usual, Adrian.”

“Tea and toast?” Adrian verified. Louis nodded. 

“I'll take the same,” Harry said while digging in his bag- the only thing he'd taken with him when he left his home- for cash. He didn't usually like toast, but he didn't know what else was available as there was no menu board, and he didn't particularly feel like asking. 

“Alright. That'll be right out,” Adrian said with a smile after the two had paid. 

Louis looked at Harry and gestured to the seating area, indicating that he could pick where they sat. 

Harry walked the few short steps to the table closest to them before taking a seat, Louis following suit. 

“So. Questions?” Louis started once they were both comfortable- or as comfortable as you could get in the hard wooden seats. 

Not sure where to even start, Harry picked an easy question. 

“So you know him? Adrian?” 

Louis nodded. “Acquaintances. I come here a lot, I guess. Never really seen him outside of here, though. Why?”

Harry shrugged. “Just wondering.” 

He suddenly felt a bit odd about wanting to ask so many things; he felt as if he were intruding. It was a valid thing to feel, he thought, given that he'd only met Louis that morning. But, also, Harry felt a very strong desire to open up to him. More so than he usually would have when just meeting a person, owing to the fact that he had been completely alone and clueless until that morning. 

Louis eyed him. “C’mon, you were asking another question when I interrupted you,” he said, as if encouraging Harry to continue. 

“Oh, right. Where do you work?” 

“I'm a cashier at this little supermarket. Not a chain or anything. Locally owned. I've been there for about six months now.”

“And you said...you said it's hard for people like us to get jobs?” 

Louis chuckled a bit. “Well, not for you, now. But imagine if we hadn't met. You were still on the bench. You woke up, and continued doing whatever it is you were doing. Imagine getting a job then. Showing up to an interview in old clothes, not having showered in weeks, all that.”

“Oh.” Harry hadn't even considered anything of the sort. His mind had been preoccupied with more immediate concerns lately. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “But you're good. You're with me, so you should be good.”

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked, so low it was almost a whisper. He still couldn't conceive why Louis felt like he had to do anything for him. 

“I want to,” Louis responded simply. “I told you, I've seen too much shit the past year. I figure I need to do whatever I can to prevent all that. And, luckily, you seem like a pretty cool guy, Harry,” he finished with a smile. 

Harry still felt that he had to make his thoughts clear despite Louis’ words. 

“I just-” Harry paused as Adrian approached their table with their order, setting in front of each of them one cup of tea and two pieces of toast. They both thanked him, and Louis immediately began to butter his toast as Harry continued. “I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything. I don't want to be a burden to you. And I know you say it's no trouble and all, but I know it is. So-”

“Harry,” Louis cut him off, setting his toast down to give Harry his full attention. He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Yeah, you're right, it is trouble.”

Harry's eyebrows drew together in surprise from the statement. He couldn't help but feel a slight sting of rejection, even though he had basically just invited Louis to say those very words. 

“Oh, alright,” he said in an attempt to sound nonchalant. 

“Don't give me that look,” Louis remarked. 

“What look?” Harry asked, honestly not aware that he'd been giving a look. 

“That hurt look like a puppy or something would make. I was going to say, yes it is trouble. But I think that having another face around, especially one as cute as yours, will make it more than worth it.” 

Harry immediately felt a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I'm not- that's- my face is not cute!” he sputtered out a protest. 

Louis laughed. “The hurt puppy dog look kind of solidified it if the dimples already hadn't.”

“But-but not cute,” Harry complained, despite actually feeling quite flattered. He flashed a charming smile to prove his next words. “More like rugged, or handsome.” 

Louis tilted his head in consideration. “Maybe. But I'm gonna stick with cute for now.” 

Harry sighed in mock exasperation and tilted his head down to look at his toast, trying to force the smile off of his face. 

“Y’know, I did do a hard drug last night. That's like, the opposite of cute,” he continued to plead his case. He really just wanted to continue the playful conversation, as he couldn't remember the last time he had joked so lightheartedly with somebody. 

Louis shook his head. “It was a mistake, though. A one-time thing. Doesn't qualify to give you any marks against cuteness.” 

Harry scoffed. “You act like there's a rule book for measuring cuteness.” 

“Just accept it and let me eat my toast, Harry.” 

Harry sighed, picking up his tea. “You haven't won,” he assured Louis before raising the cup to his lips. 

\---

“Here it is,” Louis said, walking into the front door of a building. 

Harry started to head up the stairs that greeted them right inside of the door when Louis pulled him back. 

“You think I'm made of money, huh?” 

He chuckled when Harry only looked at him in confusion. “Come on,” he said, pulling Harry to a set of stairs he hadn't even noticed, that went down instead of up. 

“Ohh, underground,” Harry said in understanding. 

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Above ground is for the rich folk,” he joked. 

Judging by the building’s outer appearance, Harry was confident that there was nothing even resembling “rich folk” either above or below ground here. Not that he was complaining, of course.

Louis stopped at the base of the stairs, pulling a key out and using it to unlock the unmarked door in front of them. 

“Welcome to my crib,” he said sarcastically as he pushed the door open, flipped the light switch, and stepped aside so Harry could walk in ahead of him. 

The space was very small. It held a bed, two small chairs at a table, a dresser, and a small kitchen area consisting of a stove, a refrigerator, a microwave, and several cabinets. Another door led to a room containing a shower, toilet, and sink. Various belongings were strewn about, from clothes to empty bottles to a radio sitting atop the dresser. It was also rather dark, with no windows of course, and only the one overhead fixture providing light. 

“Not much, I know,” Louis said, walking past Harry and taking a seat in the chair. “I'll take the floor and you can have the bed.” 

“No, no, no,” Harry said quickly. “I'll take the floor. You stay comfortable.”

“Trust me, the bed’s not that much more comfortable than the floor anyways. I'll be fine.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I'll be sleeping on the floor. Join me if you so please. Doesn't matter, I'm staying on the floor.” 

Louis clicked his tongue. “Aren't we stubborn?” he asked rhetorically. “Right, now that we've done the customary fighting over who gets the more comfortable sleeping spot, which isn't over by the way, I've got some room in the bottom drawer of the dresser you can use. Feel free to help yourself to any of the food or drinks. I mean...there's not many rules here. Go crazy.” 

Harry looked around the room, looking for something he could “go crazy” on. “Can I put my feet on the table?” he asked in a rebellious tone. 

“What?” Louis asked in mock indignation, narrowing his eyes. “You nasty motherfucker, no you can't put your feet on the damn table,” he said while sliding off his shoes and propping his own feet on the table. 

Harry chuckled, plopping down in the chair across from Louis. He let out a big yawn, his head falling back against the chair. 

“You're really not helping your ‘I'm not cute’ case,” Louis remarked. 

“Can't help it,” Harry replied, not opening his eyes or lifting his head. “You woke me up at the crack of dawn.”

“Fair enough.”

Another question that Harry had had came to the forefront of his thoughts. “Why were you in the park that early?” 

“I like early morning walks. They help me to clear my head, I guess. How fucking cliché is that, right?”

A silence followed, and Harry could feel himself drifting closer to sleep. 

“It's 8:30, so I have to go to work now. You need to take a nap obviously, so go ahead and take the bed since I won't be here. I should be soon back after 3. Remember to help yourself to anything you want.”

Harry stood up at the same time that Louis did, with his destination being the bed, Louis’ being the door. 

“See ya, Harry,” Louis said as he walked out. 

“Bye, Louis,” Harry mumbled as he snuggled into the soft pillows. 

Sleep overtook Harry soon after he heard the door click shut, silencing his faint thoughts about how much has happened in just a few short hours.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry rolled over, willing himself to go back to sleep. He laid there for several minutes, trying to clear his head of all the thoughts that were distracting him from his slumber. But he realized soon after that it was no use, and he was up for good. 

 

He opened his eyes in defeat, letting them adjust to the light from the single bulb that had been left on. He wasn't sure what time it was and would really have no idea if it was even night or day if it wasn't for the fact that Louis wasn't there, meaning it was sometime before 3. 

 

An ache in his stomach reminded him that all had eaten that day was a piece of toast. He remembered Louis telling him that he could help himself to anything he wanted. He thought about grabbing a snack from the selection but...he felt that he didn't deserve it. 

 

Harry often did that- denied himself food even if he was hungry. He knew it was a form of self harm and that he shouldn't do it, but it was so hard to make himself care about his well being when he felt so worthless. It was usually only when he felt at his worst, and when he was going to feel at his worst was unpredictable, but he hadn't been expecting it to come when he had been having such a good day. You never can tell, he supposed. 

 

Harry continued to lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, not really wishing he were dead but not wanting to be alive. It was a strange feeling but one that he was used to. 

 

He wished that Louis would return but wasn't sure when that would be. He shifted forward onto his knees on the bed so that he could see the clock and realized that Louis wouldn't be back for another three hours or so. Sighing, he plopped back down onto his back. 

 

His mind couldn't help but wander to the night before. Never in his whole life had he imagined himself doing any drugs, much less one as hard as heroin. It was dangerous, he knew, and stupid. The stupidest thing he had ever done. 

 

But it had made him feel something. It replaced his pain with feelings of bliss. He had always labeled drug addicts as idiots, but he understood them now. Understood how easy it was to fall into the trap and never make it out. 

 

He admitted to himself the thought that had been in the back of his mind since he woke from his nap. 

 

He wanted more. Craved it. Would do anything for it. 

 

And suddenly, he was out the door and on his way back to that same place he had gone the night before. And he was ashamed of himself. He had promised himself and Louis that he would never do it again, and here he was just a few short hours later. But he couldn't even pretend that the excitement and anticipation didn't completely trump the shame. 

 

He realized that it was similar to depression, in a way. You were able to think rationally but your irrational feelings clouded all rational thoughts and replaced them with irrational thoughts. And then he realized that drug addiction really was a mental illness. 

 

A voice suddenly pulled Harry out of his thoughts. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, looking around for the source of the voice. It didn't take long before he spotted Adrian, the guy from the café this morning. Adrian was sitting at a table in front of what Harry quickly realized was that same café. 

 

“Hi,” Harry muttered very weakly, and a bit questioning. 

 

“What was your name again?” Adrian asked. 

 

“Harry.”

 

“Ah! That was it. Harry.”

 

Harry nodded slowly, not sure what to do next. 

 

“Right,” he said, turning to continue walking. 

 

“Wait. Why don't you sit down?” Adrian asked, gesturing to the seat across from him. “I'm on break.” 

 

Harry contemplated it for a moment. He really wanted to tell the guy to shove off so he could continue to his destination, but he felt that this was the excuse he needed to stop himself from doing the thing that he really should not do. 

 

So he sat down with Adrian. 

 

Adrian eyed him, a bit surprised that Harry had sat with him. “So, what are you doing? Where's Louis?” 

 

“Louis’ at work,” Harry told him, ignoring the other question. 

 

“Ah. Yeah.” He paused, waiting for Harry to continue. When he didn't, he asked again. “What are you doing?”

 

“Just going for a walk,” Harry lied smoothly. He had grown accustomed to lying when he had been living at home. 

 

Adrian didn't question it. “Right. So, how do you know Louis?”

 

Harry thought for a moment about how much he should actually divulge. “We actually only met this morning. He found me sleeping on a park bench. And, naturally, offered me a place to live with him five minutes later.” 

 

His last comment prompted a laugh from Adrian. “Always a generous one, Louis is.”

 

“What do you know about him? Anything?” Harry asked, curious to find out anything he could about the man who had taken him in. 

 

“We've had a few conversations here and there, just like you and I are having now. I've learned a few things. Not sure if I should tell you, though,” he said hesitantly. His expression changed a bit. “What were you really doing before you sat down? You weren't just going for a stroll. You looked determined, you were walking fast, and I had to call you three times before you heard.” 

 

His tone wasn't accusatory, merely curious. 

 

Harry sighed, not seeing the point in coming up with some elaborate lie. “I was going to get something bad, that I shouldn't have.”

 

“What, like, a gun? Are you planning on harming somebody?”

 

“No, no, of course not. Never,” Harry said quickly. “A drug,” he whispered, still hating the feeling of saying it out loud. 

 

Adrian's eyebrows shot up. “Does Louis know that you use?” A look of comprehension came over his features. “Is that how he found you? Why he took you in?”

 

Harry was suddenly confused. “Wait, wait. Why would you assume that those two things are connected? I mean, they are, but how did you know?”

 

Adrian's features became apprehensive once more. Almost like he was scared to proceed. “Louis is really passionate about that kind of thing, and really vocal about it. It's a personal thing for him. I don't think he ever used, but he was involved in that. He worked for a dealer for a bit. Made good money, but I think it all just got to him. All the suffering and death, and he became disgusted with himself for what he was a part of. So he got out, and I guess he decided he was gonna do whatever he could to stop that suffering to make up for the part he had contributed to.” 

 

Harry was speechless. He had assumed that Louis really was just passionate about the subject because he had seen some friends suffer from it, not because he had actually previously been involved in drug dealing. 

 

“Hey, don't judge him. It's tough being on the street, he didn't have many options,” Adrian said, mistaking Harry's shocked silence for him being judgemental. 

 

“I'm not judging him,” Harry said sharply, then, upon realizing how harsh his tone was, “Sorry. I'm just...a bit shocked.” 

 

Adrian nodded. “Look, you've got to stop. I don't know how far deep in you are, but you have to. I'm sure Louis already told you this, but that stuff destroys lives. And it would destroy Louis if anything happened to you under his watch.”

 

Harry had already made the promise to never do drugs again to Louis. And he had come close to breaking it. He didn't know if he could keep that promise, but he knew that he had to do everything he possibly could to try. He had to try harder than he had that morning. 

 

“Okay,” he said, agreeing with Adrian. “If not for myself, then for him.”

 

“Try to do it for yourself,” Adrian said. “You have to make yourself a priority. Other people can factor into your decisions, but not dictate them completely. If you only did it for Louis, and then something happened to Louis, nothing would stop you from going back to the habit. If you do it for yourself, you're always accountable.” 

 

Harry nodded. “That's good advice. Thanks.”

 

“Anytime,” Adrian replied with a smile. “Actually, not anytime. But my break is from noon to half past every day if you ever need more great advice. Which reminds me-” he looked at his watch. “My break ended five minutes ago.” Harry expected him to quickly hop up and run inside, but he didn't. He looked at Harry once more. “Are you good? I can walk you back to Louis’ place or something?”

 

Harry was a bit thrown off by his caring manner. He wasn't used to people concerning themselves so much with him. 

 

“I'm good, thanks.”

 

“Alright. Well, I'll see you later, Harry. Nice talking to you, and don't forget what I told you, eh?”

 

“Yeah, see you later.”

 

Adrian smiled before turning and entering the café, leaving Harry sitting alone at the table as busy people bustled by. 

 

\---

 

Harry jumped as a sudden noise reached his ears, but immediately relaxed when he realized it was the doorknob turning. Louis was back. 

 

“Hey,” Louis said before closing the door behind him. 

 

“Hey,” Harry returned his greeting. 

 

“So, what'd you do while I was gone?” Louis asked, taking the seat across from Harry at the small table. 

 

“Nothing much,” Harry told him. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Louis about how he talked with Adrian, because then he would be tempted to ask him about his past. And he wasn't sure if he should do that yet. After Adrian had returned to work, Harry walked back to Louis’ room and had been there ever since, doing nothing but staring at the wall and thinking. “How was work?” he asked, trying to take Louis’ mind away from what Harry had done today. 

 

“Shitty. I'm just not very good with customers, I think. I mean, if you're nice to me, I'll be nice back. But if you have even the slightest attitude…” he trailed off. “I don't think it's the job for me. But, I can't afford to be too picky. Literally.” 

 

Harry smiled a bit. “Pretty soon I'll have a job and be able to help out, and then it won't be as bad. Maybe you can even quit and look for something else.”

 

Louis frowned. “Harry, you don't have to rush into anything. You should give it a few weeks at least. You're going through lots of shocks and changes at the moment. You don't need another one. I'll be fine, I promise.” 

 

Guilt overtook Harry, and he had the sudden urge to confess to Louis. Or to confide in him. Or both, he guessed. 

 

“I did do something today,” Harry started. “And I feel really bad because you're being so nice and generous and only asked one thing of me, and I almost ruined even that.”

 

“What did you do, Harry?” Louis asked. And Harry was surprised when he didn't sound angry, or worried, or disappointed, but instead almost therapeutic. It encouraged him to continue. 

 

“I just...craved it. So badly. I couldn't think straight. I went to get more heroin. But I didn't,” he spoke very quickly. Almost so quick as to be unintelligible. He slowed down when he continued. “I didn't get more. But I came so close. And I'm sorry.” 

 

Louis’ expression stayed the same as he spoke. “I'm not gonna say it's okay, because it's not. But you stopped, and that's what matters, right?” 

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

 

“Right. So you’re good?”

 

“I think so,” Harry answered truthfully. “I’m just worried that it’ll happen again- that I’ll get the urge again but that I won’t be able to resist it this time.”

 

Louis studied Harry carefully. “You will be. You’re strong. But if you ever feel like you can’t, then come and get me from work. I’ll write the address and directions for you. We’ll do something. Get your mind off it.”

 

Harry shook his head. “I couldn’t do that. You’d get in trouble-”

 

Louis cut him off. “I really don’t care. I’ve learned that you have to decide what’s important to you in life. And I’m not gonna be the prick who chooses work over friends, ever, no matter what.”

 

“Friends?” Harry asked. 

 

“Well I don’t let just any stranger live with me, so yeah, I’d say we’re friends.”

 

Harry smiled. “Cool.”

 

Louis returned his smile. “So, what do you wanna do today?”

 

“I dunno,” Harry started before putting on a playful smile. “What kinds of things do street friends do? Steal cars? Rob people?” 

 

“Ha, ha,” Louis fake laughed. “This is the real world, not Grand Theft Auto. And, besides, I don’t pay the bills for us to call ourselves “street friends”. We’re shitty-apartment-friends.”

 

Harry put his hands up in defense. “My mistake. So, what kinds of things do shitty-apartment-friends do for fun?”

 

Louis thought. “I usually listen to the radio, or go for walks. Not much. We could just talk.”

 

“About what?” Harry asked. There was a lot they could talk about given that they barely knew each other, but he wasn’t sure where to start. 

 

Louis looked hesitant, like he was deciding whether or not he should say something. “Well, you mentioned earlier... that your dad caught you with someone named Ian. Who was he?”

 

“Oh…” Harry said, caught off guard. 

 

“You don’t have to answer,” Louis said quickly.

 

“No it’s...it’s fine. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything. I just had never been with anybody and wanted to know what it was like. I didn’t fancy him but he was attractive. We didn’t do much- we were just kissing when my dad walked in- but it was more than I’d ever done with anyone before.”

 

“Do you miss him?” 

 

Harry shrugged. “I barely even knew him. I don’t  _ miss _ him as much as I wish that I could’ve talked to him afterwards and seen if he was okay and everything, y’know?”

 

“Why wouldn’t he be okay?” Louis asked, confused.

 

Harry paused. “I don’t know. Just my dad walking in and me making him leave and everything. Maybe he was upset.”

 

Louis smiled sadly. “Everything that happened to you and you’re worried about if  _ he’s _ okay?”

 

“I mean, any decent person would be, right?” Harry asked genuinely.

 

“I wouldn’t say so,” Louis sighed. “I’d say that would take more than a decent person.” He smiled at Harry.

 

Harry shrugged. “I think it’s the decent thing to do.”

 

“Yeah. That’s what makes you more than a decent person.”

 

“I don’t-”

 

“Nope,” Louis cut him off. “You have to accept my compliments, remember? And they’re always true, just so you know. I don’t make shit up.”

 

“Thanks, then,” Harry said with a small smile. He hesitated for a moment before asking the question in the back of his mind. “So, have you ever been with anyone? Y’know, in that way?”

 

“You mean sex?” Louis deadpanned, clearly amused at Harry’s avoidance of the words themselves. 

 

“Yeah, sex,” Harry answered, looking down at his shoes. 

 

Louis paused. “Yeah. Just a couple of randoms. Nothing serious.” 

Harry nodded in understanding.

 

“Why? You wanna know what it’s like?”

 

“Ew. No,” Harry quickly said as his face scrunched up. 

 

“ _ Ew _ ?” Louis sounded offended but he couldn’t help his grin. “C’mon, you’re curious. That’s why you asked, and why you were messing around with Ian. You want it. It’s okay, everyone does. It’s natural.”

 

Harry grew more mortified with each word, which Louis seemed to find funny. 

 

“If I did want it,” Harry started carefully, “that doesn’t mean I’d do anything about it. I mean, look what happened last time.”

 

Louis’ amused expression turned to a frown. “Harry, you’re not there anymore. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. You’re safe now.”

 

Harry thought about that for a moment. Here he was in a strange town, living with a person he had only met that morning after sleeping on park benches for a week. But despite all that he was safe  _ now _ . It was quite strange. But he knew it was true. 

 

“I ‘spose you’re right.”

 

“I know I’m right,” Louis said. “But don’t take that as permission to be bringing guys back here or anything because, as you so eloquently said before, ‘ew’.”

 

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands.

 

“Hm. ‘Embarrassed Harry’ is the cutest Harry I’ve seen so far.”

 

“Shut up,” Harry mumbled through his hands. And Louis didn’t see the grin that appeared on his face, but he suspected that it might have been there.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be adding more chapters as I write them. Thanks for reading!


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